With Tooth and Claw
by Steambot
Summary: Redwall is a paradise. Never conquered. Never defeated. But all things must come to an end.


**This is my first fan fic, and I hope it goes well. Almost all of these characters are made up. Redwall belongs to Brian Jacques. Please review.  
><strong>

Prologue

A bright sunbeam shone through Abbot Durmo's chambers. His eyes opened slowly and blearily he gazed out the window at a bright new day. Smiling, the elderly vole swung his legs out of bed and got to his feet, stretching. Donning a light green cloth robe, he left his chambers and, treading on silent paws, made his way down to breakfast. It was still early and not many of his fellow Redwallers was up yet. Fortunately for Durmo, the cook, a vole like himself, was awake and able to make him some soup. "Good morning, Tebb, how are you today?"  
>"Oh, just fine, just fine, Father. A few troubles, maybe, we're running low on cabbage again. We'll have to make do with celery." Tebb said. Durmo patted him on the back and finished his soup. A few more people arrived to eat as the Abbot took his leave, waving as he passed. Durmo left the hall and headed up the stairs towards the infirmary.<p>

* * *

><p>Near the forest where Redwall resides, a gathering of a hundred creatures is taking place. They are an odd bunch, made up of foxes, squirrels, ermine, and even a few badgers. All had come there for a purpose. A young mouse with a scar across his face and clothed in a large cloak steps onto a platform in front of them. He raises his paws and the assembled animals cheer. With a wave he silences them, "Brothers and sisters." He says, smiling, "We are gathered here today because we share a common ideal. We have all come to know that ideal. We all know that ideal. That ideal is; there is no paradise. There is no perfect home. There is no impenetrable fortress. There are no magic swords or wise ghost ancestors that will guide your path. Trust only yourselves and your closest companions."<p>

* * *

><p>Sister Daina, the infirmary keeper, glanced up as Durmo entered, "Oh, hello Father." There were a few patients who had slept there the night before. The Abbot looked at them.<br>"Anything serious?"  
>"Not really. A few cuts, some bruises. I think that young Pudge has a cold." Durmo laughed and stepped next to Pudge's bedside, "And how are you little one?"<br>"Gotta' cold Fodder." The little mouse sneezed.  
>Smiling, Durmo rubbed the young one's head, "You'll get better eventually, especially with Sister Daina's help." The mouse nodded enthusiastically and then said goodbye to Durmo as left, "Bye, Fodder!"<p>

* * *

><p>"But the best part is, everybeast here is your closest companion. We share a common goal: the destruction of false perfection. This place, this…. <em>Redwall<em>, is the embodiment of false perfection. They have never been conquered. They have never had to suffer hunger or thirst. It has always been there, ready at paw. They have _feasts_." The mouse said the word disgustedly, "They no nothing of what the vermin suffer," He gestured to the rats, ermine, and foxes in the crowd, "or the other woodlanders not so fortunate as to be born there." He pointed at the badgers, mice, and hares as well, "We must inform them. They need to learn that they cannot trust in a dead mouse to guide them with prophecies. There are no heroes, just normal beasts in the right places at the right times with the right weapons and the right beliefs. Maybe Martin the Warrior is real. Maybe his sword really is magic. Maybe Redwall is a paradise. And if this is true, well we will be defeated, now won't we? But I don't think so. We are the real world."

* * *

><p>The Abbot headed outside to watch the last of the early morning fog drift away. A few of the younger Redwallers were there too, playing in the courtyard. Durmo climbed the Abbey wall and looked out across the great forest that stretched out towards the horizon. How lucky he was, to be alive and living in Redwall.<p>

* * *

><p>"We are realists."<p>

* * *

><p>Durmo suddenly frowned. There was something in the air, perhaps. Something <em>boded<em>. The Abbot of Redwall's eyes widened as, out of his glorious forest, something came.

* * *

><p>"We are educators."<p>

* * *

><p>The Abbot ignored the greetings directed at him as he rushed from the wall and ran, ran as fast as he could. He needed to tell someone. Even in his panic, however, he was confident that Redwall could withstand any invasion.<p>

* * *

><p>"We will teach them a lesson."<p>

* * *

><p>Durmo, Sister Daina, and several other important creatures ascended the Abbey wall and stared at the forest edge. There were at least a hundred beasts congregating there, Vermin and woodlanders alike. They had a look about them. That look told all who viewed it that these animals would not stop for anything in pursuit of their goal. They had axes, knives, swords, and shields of all types and all workmanships. At their head was a scarred mouse carrying a single ax. He had lit the top of the wooden handle like a torch with cloth and oil. The mouse raised the axe and looked directly at the Abbot, singling him out, "Good morning, Redwall!" He cried, ecstatically."<p>

* * *

><p>"We are a force of nature."<p> 


End file.
